


These Childhood Games

by Kaiosea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Universe, Description of Piercing, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Service Top Kenma, Some kink negotiation, Spanking, Trust Kink, college aged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 04:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6641068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiosea/pseuds/Kaiosea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What if we think of it like this?” Kuroo trails his tongue along the shape of the words he’s been thinking, trying to construct the right phrase. “You can play me like a video game.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Childhood Games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zee/gifts).



> A treat for zee in the first SmutSwap. 
> 
> Thank you to doxian for the beta!!

“Like that—you can put your weight on me,” Kuroo says.

Spreading his thighs wider atop him, Kenma seems more than happy to make Kuroo do more of the work. Kuroo relishes the increased pressure on his legs, driving his hips upwards, fucking him at a steady pace. After they’re done, Kenma rolls over, naked and messy, and closes his eyes.

“Water,” he mumbles.

Kuroo would like to fall asleep right here, gazing lovingly at the come streaked over his boyfriend’s stomach, but he pushes himself up off the bed. Small price for the extended vision of Kenma actually riding him.

Kenma accepts the glass of water with both hands and says, “I know you like me on top, but I get tired. It was good.”

Kuroo creates the juncture between the sentences with a smile to himself. “You looked hot.”

“Don’t touch me yet, you’re sweaty.”

As long as he can look his fill, Kuroo doesn’t mind the not-touching. He rubs a hand over his chin, and the stubble reminds him to shave. He can’t go as many days without doing it as in high school. “Movies tomorrow? Your pick.”

“I have a day off. I’m doing the thing tomorrow,” Kenma yawns, sticking his tongue out. “If you’re coming.”

Kuroo doesn’t bother to answer that; it’s not a question. “So you’re really going through with it. Why do you want one of those again?”

“I get bored.”

Kenma doesn’t drink any water before falling asleep, but Kuroo’s glad he brought it.

 

 

“Yes, we use sterilized tools. You can take a look at the piercer’s portfolio, if you like.”

Kenma has to sign a paper saying he’s aware of the risks. Kuroo looks over his shoulder as he reads; Kenma’s the type to sign anything, so Kuroo provides the second glance.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a look at our catalogue?” The woman behind the counter asks Kuroo. She smiles, and her eyes catch as they pass over his face.

Surprised, Kuroo shakes his head. “I’ll leave it to my friend.”

Kenma bristles—he doesn’t like being called _friend_ , and Kuroo doesn’t like calling him only that, but the needle’s already paid for, and it’s not worth the potential trouble. What people read into their relationship is for them to decide.

Kuroo’s allowed in the room. Kenma tepidly sits on the table and sticks out his tongue so the piercer can examine it. Kenma is deemed good to go for the piercing, and the placement spot marked precisely.

Back when Kenma had first thought about getting a piercing, they’d watched some videos of the procedure together. Surprisingly, Kuroo had a harder time stomaching the sight of a needle sticking through flesh than Kenma did, but he became used to it after seeing how fast and relatively painless it was. It will only be a few seconds of the needle creating a hole, and the entire process should only take a few minutes.

Sitting on a stool near the wall, Kuroo watches the piercer expertly preparing the forceps and needle, barbell and jewelry. He wonders how it would feel to get pierced himself, and his body shudders as he imagines the sensation of helplessness. Gloved hands on his own tongue instead of Kenma’s, the thrilling anticipation of the bee-sting.

In that scenario, if Kuroo’s in the piercing chair, then Kenma must be the one watching.

 _There might be pain,_ Kenma would remind him, always by his side. And Kuroo would say. Well, he’d say, _I’m used to pain_. Not to be cool and manly—no, a little to be cool and manly, but also because if he got nervous, Kenma would too, so Kuroo would control his reaction.

But, in this scenario, as long as he’s being watched, why shouldn’t Kenma also be performing the piercing?

The phantom image changes without warning, to Kenma wielding cold silver forceps, pinching his tongue so saliva pools in his mouth. Saying _hold still, Kuro_ so he can hit the right spot, marked out earlier for him to take his pleasure. Asking him if he likes it with surprised wide eyes, _Tetsu, do you really? It hurts that much?_

Hearing Kenma emit a nasal sound, Kuroo snaps back to reality, catching the piercer screwing the lower clasp of metal into Kenma’s pink tongue. Kenma’s eyes say that it hurts, and Kuroo feels his own mouth tingle in illusive sensation.

Fuck. 

 

 

“Ishe,” Kenma says when they get home, and Kuroo runs to the freezer.

“Still bored?” Kuroo hands over the entire tray.

Kenma’s going to get the whole bed wet, the way he lazily sucks the cubes so water droplets drool down his chin. “Not yet,” he slurs around his mouthful.

“What is it?” Kuroo asks, already knowing the answer. Kenma’s blinking his eyes slowly and lounging back on the bed in an obvious position. His nose twitches, lip sucked into his mouth.

“It’s because you’re flirted with a lot,” Kenma tries to say around a swollen tongue.

“You mad?”

“No. An observation.”

So Kenma is horny, and maybe possibly a little jealous. Kuroo can't think of a better opportunity to bring up what’s been a long time coming. “Speaking about sex, there’s something new—”

Kenma’s eyes narrow, lifting at the corners. "Kuro. Don’t want to go to the emergency room again.”

“It’s not an idea like that. It’s different.”

Kenma sits up a little, but not much.

Kuroo begins slowly. “What about you kind of…” _Dominating me_ , Kuroo’s mind supplies. It’s not the first time he’s thought it. It’s the first time he’s given it a name. “Being more aggressive,” he says. “Like. yesterday, when you were on top. But with more punishment, or force.” _Or handcuffs, and maybe some rope,_ and he stops his thoughts right there.

“Why do I want to punish you?”

It’s Kenma asking, so Kuroo knows he means it. Carefully, he responds, “Are you turned off by it?”

Kenma’s shrug says _No, but it sounds like effort_.

“What if we think of it like this?” Kuroo trails his tongue along the shape of the words he’s been thinking, trying to construct the right phrase. “You can play me like a video game.” He licks his lips and hopes for the best, holding his breath.

Kenma clicks his piercing but doesn’t say anything.

“Like you’ve got my controller,” Kuroo jokes.

“How many positive reviews did this game get.”

“You joker.” Kuroo ruffles Kenma’s hair, and Kenma turtles his shoulders, making a fake mad face. “Of course you’re the first tester. Beta me.”

Kuroo can see the idea click into Kenma’s brain, a half-smile forming on his face. He congratulates himself.

 

 

Kenma doesn’t say anything about it for a few weeks. During that time period his tongue heals very slowly, but luckily without complications. Kuroo gives a lot of unreciprocated blowjobs during this time, and if he has to imagine Kenma’s hand pushing his head down with a little more force, so be it. (The requisite handjobs from Kenma don’t really compare.)

Kuroo finds it funny that once his tongue heals, Kenma claims that he’s forgotten how to kiss. It’s not a subtle line, but Kenma has always been straightforward about these matters. They end up in a passionate makeout session, rolling around in the bedcovers until the heat from their bodies overwhelms them, despite their discarded shirts.

“What do you want to do now,” Kenma says quietly.

Kuroo rolls onto his back. “Isn’t that your job?”

Sighing, Kenma rolls himself slowly off the bed, dropping to the floor like a lump. He goes to the short bookshelf against the nearest wall and starts to make a pile of the heaviest spines.

“What’re those for?”

Kenma says, the hint of a smile on his mouth, “For hitting you with.”

Kuroo laughs, understanding the joke. “Can I ask what parts of me you’re going to attack?”

“You can ask,” Kenma says. Kuroo raises his eyebrows, and the corners of Kenma’s mouth turn decidedly up. “Your butt, what did you think it was going to be.” Kenma piles some books on his arms and looks back at Kuroo.

Kuroo swallows. “Yeah, that’s fine. Great, even.” Physics never looked so appealing.

Kenma dumps the books on the bed. “Turn over.”

It is going to happen like this. Kuroo feels himself getting excited prematurely as he lies on his stomach. He should have expected something like this—no bells and whistles, just a mundane day.

Kuroo glances over his shoulder, anticipating.

“Don’t look at me,” Kenma says.

Kuroo puts his face into the pillow.

“Speak up if it’s not right.”

Kuroo grunts his agreement, listening to Kenma breathe out softly. Time has led up to this, the result of a slow intertwining of trust. He forgot to count every moment as they passed by, but he’ll count now.

The first strike is more of a tap, a cold hard press of object to skin. And a pause.

“More,” Kuroo says.

He can feel the indents in his skin, how it springs back tautly. The force is barely painful, and the application is rhythmic and precise. The jolts it sends to his cock are just as consistent.

He melds his hips with the bed, grinding them down. Pinpricks of sensation center around his groin, his entire world rendered down to the next hit, and the next.

He loses count of how many times he’s spanked, though it’s not long before he hears the books being dropped on the ground, feels Kenma’s weight shifting until he’s straddling Kuroo’s thighs. Their bare legs touch—Kenma must have removed his pants.

 _Slap._ The sensation is lighter but more stinging, the change from inanimate to human making all the difference. Kuroo humps the bed, desperately searching completion underneath his boyfriend’s weight. His hips still, then give a few quick jerks as he urges himself into orgasm. He breathes out heavily through his mouth.

“Did you—”

“Yeah,” Kuroo says. Kenma’s weight shifts higher on his legs, and Kuroo groans when something warm and sticky spills over his back.

Kuroo turns his head and Kenma’s right there, kissing him with a pliant tongue. Fabric swipes over his back, a preliminary solution to the mess he’ll need a shower to cleanse properly.

“That was my shirt, wasn’t it.”

Kenma shrugs.

“Damnit, you made me come so fucking hard—”

“Weird.”

“Weird, yeah,” Kuroo chimes in accidentally. Kenma puts his head on Kuroo’s chest and keeps chuckling, pushing a cute nose into his nipple until they’re rumbling with the same breath. Kuroo laughs too—at how normal and disgusting they are.

“Tetsu, you had a good idea.”

“Thanks, Ke-n-ma.” Kuroo lazily draws out his name, because the two of them are really in for it now, and he’s got time to say what he likes.

They’ve given up the fantasy that this could ever have been just a game.


End file.
